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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26752876">Hold Me Tenderly</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nazunarunning/pseuds/Nazunarunning'>Nazunarunning</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>BNA: Brand New Animal (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oneshot, Shirou/Pingua, shingua</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:26:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,703</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26752876</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nazunarunning/pseuds/Nazunarunning</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After Shirou gets injured, he is instructed to stay home by mayor Rose for a little while. Unfortunately, staying home and waiting is something Shirou hasn't been good at for about 1000 years... when he thinks he's hit one of his lowest points, with everyone worried while he's in his self-destructive world, someone else shows up.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ogami Shirou &amp; Pinga, Ogami Shirou/Pinga</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hold Me Tenderly</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was very much inspired by cath's post on tumblr! (shirouogaymi on tumblr and @catheria on here!) I read it and then tunnel visioned this, so, there's that. </p><p>Hope you feel as much pain reading this as I did writing this! &lt;3</p><p>Listen to peace by Taylor Swift for maximum loving Shirou capacity!!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Over the years, Shirou has gotten used to throwing himself in situations which have led to him getting hurt. Hell, it’s basically been his hobby for roughly a thousand years now. He thought he’d had the worst of it, after getting a hole blasted in him by a sound wave from an immortal pureblood. He was almost wrong. </p><p>Apparently, there had been some criminals acquiring dangerous weapons, including guns that were specifically hurtful for beastmen, poison installed inside the bullets. Shirou knows all this, because he experienced them first-hand.</p><p>“It’s not that bad,” he kept telling everyone, even though he hadn’t been able to properly do just about anything for the past few hours. Or has it reached days now? He hadn’t really been keeping track. He wondered if he could activate a special healing power, or something. Anything to stop everyone’s worried glances, to stop them from running over and picking something up for him, to feed him and to make sure he’s comfortable while laying down. Anything at all. </p><p>He figured, being Silver Wolf, and being immortal, there had to be something he could do. But, after hours and hours of trying, and absolutely exhausting himself, he had to quit. He only did it, because Michiru said she would coddle him if he didn’t stop. A weird threat, but one that was of high danger to him. </p><p>On top of the fact that he has failed the one thing he could do right, saving people, his body ached as if he were on his deathbed, which wasn’t even possible. The poison was messing with his limbs, not being able to operate them right, stumbling and dropping things at random, and infected his lungs. Or maybe it was just infecting his brain, because sometimes he was convinced he was somehow drowning right there on the spot, in the middle of a room filled with only air. </p><p>He was on strict instructions from mayor Rose not to leave the house, but he was hating every single second of his stay. He should be doing something. He was letting every mortal beastman live in a minute longer of fear and hurt, and he was letting it happen on purpose. </p><p>Most nights, he waited for everyone to go to bed, turn on the news and just cry. He couldn’t help it. It was as if the only thing his body could do right, was sob so hard he passed out from sheer tiredness. </p><p>He’s sure Michiru is at least aware of it. He knows she doesn’t hear him at night, but the looks she gives him in the morning, he might as well look as if he’s actually been on his deathbed the whole time. He knows his eyebags have become worse, and his eyes are puffy all the time. He hates knowing she’s aware. She’s not stupid, she can piece two and two together. And he hates it. He hates it to his core. </p><p>He pretends it’s not a big problem. He pretends his PTSD hasn’t only been getting worse since his injury, because he can’t do anything, and his suffering is just reminding him of the far-away past. </p><p>One night, while Shirou lays on the couch and is staring into the wall, Michiru walks up to him. Carefully, as if he might break from being touched. He hated it, he knew he looked frail, and he felt frail. But he hated the feeling more than that he acknowledged it, let alone allowing himself to feel it at all. </p><p>“Shirou,” she said, slightly louder than a whisper. “I know you don’t want my help but… I have some soup--”</p><p>“I’m not hungry,” he immediately shot her down. If he accepts her help now, he will never recover from the guilt. She’s been doing baseball games and heaven knows what, but he couldn’t even be there. He wants to be there. Anywhere but here.</p><p>“Shirou,” she sighed, so softly, his head actually snapped towards her. “It’s okay if you aren’t okay. You have to realise that I care about you. Everyone in this house does. Mayor Rose does. Pingua does. We just want to help ease your pain.”</p><p>“Please, Michiru,” his voice was low and gruff, he knew it was because he refrained from talking to anyone. Kuro was at his side, looking at him with big sad eyes. He couldn’t do this anymore. “Just go.”</p><p>He knew that, under any other circumstance, she would have stayed. He knew she cared. Along with everyone else she mentioned, but… he couldn’t handle it. The fact that she cared, that they all cared, it scared him. He doesn’t want them to. He wants them to be happy, he wants to protect them. And that’s the one thing he can’t do right now.</p><p>She sighed again, but nodded dutifully. She put the soup down in front of him, hoping he’ll have a sip at least. They both already know he won’t. </p><p>She walks away, and Kuro follows her. He does that sometimes, Shirou noted. Kuro might have been there at first for his own comfort, but Kuro has become special for Michiru, too. He allows it, of course. He knows that she needs it too, and he would gladly give her anything. Anything other than letting her help him, because that’s his job. </p><p>He lays down again, flat on his back. He winces when the bandage shifts over the wounds, the poison still not having flushed out of his body and not letting the wounds close up. He figures that on any other beastman, it would have had a killing effect. Not only won’t his wounds heal, they are actually still as bad as fresh gunshots, with of course the side-effects of uncoordinated limbs and drowning lungs. </p><p>He almost drifts off, right there, staring into the ceiling and thinking about how to repay Michiru and everyone else for their worries. </p><p>But there’s a knock, and he knows it’s not Michiru, because she doesn’t wait for him to answer, but this person seems to wait until Shirou reluctantly stutters out a ‘come in’. </p><p>He’s a little surprised that the intruder of his loneliness hears him, but he shoots up when he notices it’s the infamous albatross. </p><p>He can’t help but groan from the movement, making Pingua rush over.</p><p>“No, wait,” he grunts, vaguely holding a hand up. Pingua stops in his tracks, gently bucking down in front of him. “It’s fine.”</p><p>Pingua looked at him with such sadness, it wasn’t even comparable to the looks Michiru and everyone else have been giving him combined for days. </p><p>He doesn’t even say anything. He just takes a quick look around the room, seeing the now cold soup on the table next to them. He sighs, looking back at Shirou. </p><p>Shirou doesn’t think he’s even feeling something at that moment. He was watching Pingua experience all these emotions, and all he can think about is how much he hates it. He turns his head away, not being able to look into Pingua’s eyes, and lets himself get lost in thought. </p><p>Except, Pingua does something he didn’t see coming at all. </p><p>He simply cups Shirou’s face, moving it towards him, scanning his eyes all over Shirou’s face, as if he’s looking for something. </p><p>Shirou gasps and stiffens up entirely, as if anything he does right now will be analysed, and something bad will happen. </p><p>But Pingua says something which takes him by surprise. “If you want me to leave, I will. But right now I am here with you. Just for you and only for you.”</p><p>He knows his eyes are betraying him. He knows his quivering lip is proving his so-called stoicness to be a lie. He knows that the sob escaping his throat, and his lean into Pingua’s touch, is showing him all the things he was so desperately trying to hide. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Shirou whispers, even with the breathy sound he heard his own voice crack. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, a little louder this time. </p><p>“It’s alright, it’s okay, my love,” Pingua whispers back, sitting down next to Shirou and taking him into his hold. “I’m here. I’m here now.” </p><p>Shirou feels Pingua’s other hand circling patterns into his back and shoulder, the movements only upsetting him more. But not because they actually make him upset, but because this is the first time he’s opened up to someone in forever. He forgot how much he needed this, how much he needed Pingua to do all the things he’s doing and to let him cry and be upset. </p><p>Tenderly, Pingua moves them both so that Shirou is laying with his head on Pingua’s chest and make sure Shirou doesn’t get hurt from his physical wound again. He strokes Shirou’s hair, evening out his breaths. Shirou tried to copy his breathing pattern, but he couldn’t stop his own crying. </p><p>He was pleasantly surprised when he realised his lungs hadn’t tricked themselves into thinking they were drowning. The past few days had been filled with crying relentlessly and then choking on thin air. He let Pingua gently trace his fingers over his face, all the way down to his neck and, eventually, his scar. His fingers only dance over it briefly, but long enough for them both to know it wasn’t an accident. His other hand is airily wrapped around Shirou, to hold him for stability. </p><p>Pingua probably ended up with Shirou in his arms, soothingly stroking his hair for a few hours. Shirou didn’t stop crying until he fell asleep, Pingua constantly whispering sweet things and shushing him, but not in a way that made Shirou feel like he should stop crying. </p><p>Pingua smiles and carefully brushes aside the hair on Shirou’s forehead, placing a kiss on it, finally having gotten Shirou to hopefully feel a little better. </p><p>Not long after all this, he fell asleep too. He stayed with Shirou the whole night, and for once, Shirou slept peacefully, no angered expression on his face. </p><p>When Michiru checked in on them, she had to stop herself from squealing. Maybe Shirou was healing now, and maybe he will learn vulnerability doesn’t equal weakness. Maybe, though. And it’ll take a lot of time.</p>
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